


It’s Enough, Just Don’t Make You Feel Crazy

by likesflowers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, M/M, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likesflowers/pseuds/likesflowers
Summary: Bucky has his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist as the bike zips along the highway, corn waving in the wind.A truck passes them, letting a brief burst of music he doesn’t recognize wash over them before the tail lights fade and the only sound is the wind rushing past.They lean into the curve together.





	It’s Enough, Just Don’t Make You Feel Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack is Lana Del Rey’s “Love,” from which I’ve borrowed the title and section headings.

Just like Steve, Bucky has his list of things he missed while he was...asleep. His list is different, of course--he and Steve always had different interests, and while his appearances as the Winter Soldier over the years in between hadn’t exactly been cultural field trips, apparently even repeated memory wipes could not remove the chorus of “99 Red Balloons” from his subconscious. 

Once a week or so, they’d choose something from their lists that overlapped, but mostly, they’d explore the brave new world they’d woken up in on their own, proximate but alone.

 

\-----The World Is Yours-----

Steve’s bedroom walls were covered in maps showing all the borders that had been drawn and redrawn, then redrawn again as their war ended, the Cold War began, colonialism ended, the Cold War ended, and the shifting sands of a postcolonialist world meant civil wars and split and spliced and renamed, over and over again. He knew he’d never understand the current map (although he’d memorized it in less than fifteen minutes) and its conflicts unless he knew where it’d been, and his draftsman’s training from before the war meant that maps were as comfortable to him as old slippers, even if the names and lines cut differently. 

Pepper Potts had taken him to the MoMA, given him a walking tour that covered some of the main highlights of late 20th century art, but a lot of it had left him unmoved or even irritated. He’d found himself drawn more to the architecture than the paintings. Aside from the maps, the only things on his walls were a picture from Valencia with soaring white arches and blue, blue skies, and a photo of the Earth, taken from the moon. 

(He’d watched the video of the moon landing fourteen times in a row. Bucky had ducked out after the tenth viewing, but his eyes had been saucer-wide as he went to the kitchen to make them coffee.)

 

\-----And You Can’t Refuse It-----

Before, Bucky had loved science fiction: he couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring them, flying cars and robots and aliens. Now, he avoided it almost religiously. He was living it, had lived it, and it was every bit as dystopian as he’d been promised.He read the plot synopsis on Wikipedia for the most referenced items (Terminator, Star Trek, MST3K) and kept well clear of anything else found in that section of the bookstore and Netflix queue. Instead, he read up on sociology, sports, and fusion food. The closest he got to the future of scientific research was a surprisingly focused interest in sustainable agribusiness. 

“Bananas, man.” He’d say when questioned about the food sciences academic journal sitting on the coffee table. “Can you imagine if that happened to apples? Or to coffee? Might as well just let the aliens have the place at that point.” 

 

\-----Sing So Much You Could Get the Blues-----

For a lot of the pop culture stuff, they divided the labor much as they had in grade school. Steve handled literature and film, and Bucky listened to music. Every now and then they’d find something they had to show the other, but mostly it was just a quick summary so that they wouldn’t be lost if it came up in conversation. 

One night, though, Steve saw Bucky wander in from the kitchen, his eyes wide and his metal hand clutching the mug so tightly he was surprised it didn’t shatter. 

“What’s wrong?” He was already mentally calculating how quickly he could retrieve his shield from the entryway if necessary.

Bucky just shook his head so fiercely one earbud fell out, jangling around his waist. He set the mug down, grabbed Steve’s wrist, and pulled him out onto the balcony, city lights sparkling through a steady rain falling just beyond the shelter of the balcony above them. Bucky pushed him into one of their rickety chairs, putting himself in the other and, still wordless, hooking his phone up to the speaker they had placed out there.

“Just listen. Her name is Janis Joplin.” 

They spent two hours just listening, side by side, the air fresh and heavy with rain. 

 

\-----Part of the Past But Now You’re the Future-----

Bucky moonwalks fantastically. He loves, loves, loves salsa dancing. Once a month he and Natasha disappear on a Saturday evening and come back late, sweaty and laughing. Once they brought back a blue ribbon, and when Tony accused him of cheating using his “Old Timer Super Secret Dancing Powers,” Bucky pointed out that salsa dancing didn’t exist until the 1970s, so really, it was everyone else who had been cheating, not him. Then he stuck the ribbon to the fridge with a magnet and pointed out that it was half Natasha’s, so anyone touching it would have to face her wrath.

That was four months ago. It’s still there, untouched.

It wasn’t just new dances he likes, though. He’ll still pipe up the Glenn Miller and sashay around the room with a broom now and again, Steve sitting on the couch laughing at him, and for a moment, it’s like the war never happened. 

 

\-----Doesn’t Matter If I’m Not Enough-----

A part of Steve is sad that he missed the sixties because of all the protest marches he didn’t get to go to. Sure, there’d been stuff back before the war, and he’d gone when he could (which wasn’t often, between him being sick, him trying to earn a paycheck, and his Ma, and then Bucky, being worrywarts), and basically his entire time in Europe was him punching people to try and make the world a better place. But it seemed like that era was practically dripping with change, and a large part of that change was ordinary people standing up for how they thought the world should be, and Steve would have liked to have been a part of that. 

Not that it was perfect now--it was about as far as it could be in some ways--but Steve knew that history was a zig-zag, a drunken elephant trying to foxtrot, wobbling backwards and forwards and sideways, always changing the game, yet the stakes were always the same. People wanted fairness, they wanted safety and security, and when the kettle got hot enough, it boiled over onto the streets, and then eventually something changed, at least a little bit, at least for awhile.

There were protests now, occasionally, and he could feel a tension building in the country where there would probably be more in the near future. He had argued with Maria Hill for over half an hour about whether or not his role as Captain America precluded his involvement in any sort of political action. Their agreement (if you could call it that) was that Steve Rogers could do what he damn well pleased, but that Captain America and SHIELD had to stay the hell out of it. And that she would absolutely not bail him out if he got himself arrested, and would bar Stark from doing so, too. 

Steve hadn’t gone to protest yet, but he thought it was just a matter of time. In the meantime, Bucky had set him up a twitter account. Steve had immediately understood the possibilities of a platform like that, as a veteran of the War Bond circuit AND a master tactician (it said he was in the history books, so it must be true, he’d argued when Bucky laughed at him). He’s currently hovering around 250,000 followers, which is a crazy number of people to be listening to him, especially given that only about eight people know that activist @Steven_Grant18 is actually the First Avenger.

He’s typing out a tweet at the kitchen counter, surrounded by stainless steel as sunlight gleams off skyscrapers below them, and he has a moment of dizziness at this future where he can talk to a quarter million people about how to make the world a better place while wearing pajamas and sipping coffee. His face must be making a really strange expression, because Bucky just looks over at him, frowns, flicks him in the forehead, and says “Chill, man. It’s just Twitter. Not like they’re gonna knock your teeth out if you say it wrong. Unlike Bobby O’Connor.” 

Steve just laughs and puts the phone down, wrapping both hands around his coffee mug. Bucky leans back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face.

 

\-----Back to Work or the Coffee Shop-----

Bucky thinks about taking a job with SHIELD. He thinks about joining the Avengers, rather than just living in their tower for free and helping out when world-destroying catastrophes threaten. He thinks about getting a job in a coffee shop.

Almost since he can remember, he’s worked, first odd jobs from age twelve to help out his family, then two rotating full time jobs to cover rent when Steve was sick most of the time, then the Army, and then...well, being the Winter Soldier wasn’t exactly a _job_ , it’s not like it paid overtime or let him quit, but it had the same feeling of unpleasant tasks that must be completed. 

So now? Bucky doesn’t get a job. And he doesn’t feel guilty about it. Steve’s got back pay and rich friends, and eventually, once the lawyers are done, Bucky will have back pay, too, probably more of it than he could ever spend. So he doesn’t get a job.

He stays busier than he expected. The future has a lot of stuff to do. Some of it’s even fun.

 

\-----It’s Enough To Be Young-----

Steve’s body language is that of an experienced leader, and he knows it. However, when he goes out in civilian clothes, he occasionally overhears something about “kids these days” and knows it is a comment pointed at him. Bucky thinks it’s hilarious, but Steve mostly just feels confused.

Of all of the Avengers, Steve is technically the oldest (discounting Thor, but he’s not from Earth, so Steve thinks he doesn’t really count), having been born in 1918. In actual lived experience, however, the others are all much older, and it surprises him at random moments. Like when Clint talks about his kids, or Bruce reminisces about the good old days of being a post-doc. These aren’t cultural differences caused by Steve’s broken timeline, they’re real age and experience differences. It doesn’t usually cause problems with the team, except with Tony (and pretty much everything causes problems with Tony, so maybe the issue there is just...Steve and Tony), but it sometimes makes him feel lost in a way that missing a movie reference doesn’t.

He wonders what gives him away. He doesn’t think it’s just the civilian clothes, although apparently he favors “hipster prep,” according to Bucky and his obnoxious knowledge of men’s fashion blogs. It might be his lost expression, but since he usually only makes it at technology, that should make people think he’s old, not young. And that lost expression is appearing less and less frequently, even though the comments about his age are getting more noticeable.

Of course, it almost always happens when Bucky’s with him, and Bucky can’t stop teasing him about being a kid and a grandpa at the same time. A quiet part of him wonders if what they’re actually seeing is his expression, but not when it’s turned a touch screen; it’s when he looks at Bucky, grinning and teasing each other like there’s no one else in the world.

 

\-----Nowhere in Particular-----

Now and again, Steve gets restless. He can usually manage the aimless feeling with a good run, especially if it’s raining. But every once in awhile, when the cloudless blue lines up perfectly with his unsettled feet, he grabs Bucky by the hand and hauls him out onto the motorcycle. 

It’s never the same route, once they get out of the city. There’s a lot of city along the East coast, but it’s surprising how quickly the road can turn into small towns and rolling fields when you’re looking for it. 

It’s one of those days, in early September, and Bucky has his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist as the bike zips along the highway, corn waving in the wind.

A truck passes them, letting a brief burst of music he doesn’t recognize wash over them before the tail lights fade and the only sound is the wind rushing past.

They lean into the curve together.

 

\-----Don’t Worry, Baby-----

Steve pulls the bike over on the crest of hill and they look out at the Hudson River valley, all rolling green and glittering light on the water. It looks like a postcard, not a real place. The sun is high and both of them are squinting a bit, and the gentle breeze is just a little too warm now that the bike isn’t moving. 

Bucky’s metal arm is still looped lightly around Steve’s waist, even though they both have their weight on their right legs rather than on the seat. He realizes that this is it, the moment for HIM to leap without looking first. And so, when Steve turns to look at him, laughter in his eyes, Bucky just smiles right back, leans in, and kisses him, right there on the side of the road in upstate New York. 

Bucky’s eyes are closed, but he can feel Steve’s lips curling upwards into a smile, and he knows he made the right call. 

Steve pulls back softly, face questioning but not confused. “Wanna go back?”

Bucky doesn’t. They’ve got time. More than he ever thought possible. “Nah, it’s a gorgeous day out. Let’s see where this road takes us.” 

Somehow, after all the places they’ve been, all the things they’ve suffered and done, they’re here in this terrible and wondrous future, and what’s really important is that they’re facing it together. It’s enough.


End file.
